A Perfect Match
by thesilentlamb
Summary: A short look at Sarah Jane's views on the fourth Doctor. Could be viewed as a follow up to my fic 'Sharp' but it also stands alone. **SECOND CHAPTER ADDED** Please R&R. Thanks!
1. Chapter 1

**Yet another (different) introspective look into how Sarah Jane views the Doctor… seems to be what I'm most comfortable writing at the moment, so why not indulge it eh? **

**I find myself rather fascinated by how she would have dealt with the Doctor's changing faces over the years; also, in what seems to be becoming a bit of a habit of mine, I may write a parallel chapter from the Doctor's point of view – that is if anyone cares to read it!**

**I suppose this could be viewed as a follow on from my fic, 'Sharp', which deals with Sarah's first impressions of the third Doctor.**

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_**A Perfect Match**_

He wasn't her type.

She wasn't altogether sure what her type actually _was_, but he most definitely wasn't it.

At first he'd been more of a fatherly figure, in appearance, in demeanour. He'd taken her under his wing and she'd felt affection for him, but nothing more than that, at least she didn't _think_ so. There had perhaps been some flirtatious banter, but he certainly hadn't overstepped the thinly drawn line between them, and somehow at that time she would have found it difficult to believe he'd ever done so in the past with anyone else either. He was so proper, so gentleman-like…she simply couldn't think about him in that way.

And then everything had changed, and her Doctor wasn't her Doctor anymore - but he was, except he wasn't – it was so terribly confusing she had spent several sleepless nights after his 'death' desperately trying to make sense of it all, trying to grieve for a friend who hadn't even left her side, let alone this mortal coil. The ache of loss vying for attention with the relief and the happiness she felt at him still being, well, _him_.

Everything about him was thrown together. Those teeth, that hair… the limbs that were impossibly long, the eyes that were ridiculously wide… none of it should have worked, and yet somehow… somehow he was disconcertingly easy on the eye. His wardrobe wasn't much better and she had to wonder what had possessed him to take up wearing that ludicrous scarf even as she smiled at its increasing familiarity. Once or twice she had allowed herself to reminisce about her brief glimpse of him in the velvet and ruffles, but she had to concede that his new, eclectic style suited him far better in this body.

He wasn't the dapper gentleman he had once been, although he was not without his own charms. She found herself drawn to him despite her irritation with his arrogance and bluster. She was enchanted by his manic grin, even as the alarms bell went off in her head when he gave her _that_ look – the one that meant sooner or later they'd be running for their lives (and probably enjoying every second of it, but still, she had to object on principle); caught up the excitement when he took her hand, her heart racing at the intoxication of adventure, and yes, at the feel of his touch too. She couldn't deny it anymore than she could grow a new body of her own.

He wasn't her type. But then, perhaps she didn't need a 'type' anymore. After all, she had him.

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**Short and sweet, I hope. Please do leave a review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**As promised, the companion chapter from the Doctor's POV. I may add to this series with a similar 'first impressions' duet involving Sarah Jane and the tenth Doctor too. Again – opinions are always welcome and a nudge in the right direction makes all the difference. My thanks to Spydurwebb for the nudge on this occasion. **

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_**A Perfect Match - part 2**_

What _was_ it about her?

He didn't feel quite the same paternal affection for her that he'd felt for his other human females, that was for certain; but he couldn't deny a ferocious protectiveness nonetheless. Perhaps it was because in spite of her apparent self-possession she had a touch of the 'little girl lost' about her, not that he'd ever dare to say it. He smiled to himself at the very idea, his imagination conjuring up a fairly accurate prediction of what her reaction would be to _that_ opinion.

He chose, for now, to ignore the very _un_paternal feelings he was starting to harbour. The twitch in his hands when she stood near enough for him to reach out and touch; the odd flutterings in his stomach that he knew humans referred to as 'butterflies'. The quickening of his heartsbeat that her very presence seemed to cause.

Privately, he attempted to put it down to this new body; the quirks he hadn't quite got to grips with yet; though that didn't explain the fact that the first tingles of these unfamiliar feelings had started to take hold of him _before_ his regeneration. Outwardly, he tried to mask it, barking orders at her, being deliberately rude and insulting; silently chiding himself for upsetting her despite his amusement at her inevitable outrage.

Still, no matter how he fought it down, there was _something_ that drew him. Something that fascinated him utterly; something that increased his irritation with Harry, made him exponentially more of a nuisance than he would normally have been. The Doctor hesitated to even begin to think it, but somewhere in his huge, brilliant brain, he knew that Harry's presence was becoming a fitting example of the human phrase that began 'two's company…'.

He watched them together, Harry and his Sarah, Harry fussing over her even as she tried to waylay his well meaning chivalry. He studied her, trying to fathom what was so different about her; what made her shine so in his eyes. She was short and irritating and far too pushy for his liking; she lacked the tall elegance of the Timeladies, but she had a sparkle all her own. And perhaps, he pondered, that was all it was. She sparkled.

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**Thanks for reading :)**


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